


You make me waver and wish to stay

by canadino



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 23:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14531583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadino/pseuds/canadino
Summary: When Bruno finds himself in Askr by happy chance, he considers it his greatest luck.





	You make me waver and wish to stay

When Askr patrols catch him on the wrong side of the border, Bruno thinks this might be his big break. He’ll play himself off as a village child who wandered too far from his mother’s skirts, so they’ll escort him back and he’ll disappear before they can figure out whose child he is. But the mounted knights of the Kingdom of Askr have rightfully earned their ranks, and it doesn’t take them long to figure that he is of Embla origins. The thought of returning to that shack on the plains, monitored by shifty foot soldiers his father sends, brings Bruno the brink of desperation, and he switches tactics - he is a refugee and learned, because any ordinary citizen would be returned to Embla without a second thought. He speaks of details of the royal court that only someone who has spent some time within the palace walls would know. The patrols look among themselves and know this is beyond their pay grade, so they bring him to be an audience to the king. Bruno thinks this might be the luckiest he has ever been in his life. The king is a father to children his age, and he knows the king to be more benevolent than his own father would ever be. 

Bruno tells a tale of being the eldest son in a lineage of royal tutors, groomed since birth to collect knowledge and share it with the future Embla kings and queens. But his parents had discovered secrets of the kingdom’s past that the king had not wanted unearthed, so they had been executed and he had fled. All he wanted was to spend his days reading and know more of the world around. 

“My boy,” the Askrian king Gustav says, “do you hate your kingdom for what it has done to your family?”

Bruno thinks about his mother, his beloved mother who had held him when he fell in the palace gardens, who had stayed up with him before he grew old enough to no longer fear the dark, who had begged his father to spare his life in exchange for her own - he knows the smart response is no. Askr is a kingdom in peace, and it does not need to house revolutionaries. But instead, he says: “Yes.” 

The attendants at the king’s side shift, ready to throw him into the dungeons and prepare to bring him back to the border, but Gustav merely sighs. “You are so young,” he says. “Much too young to harbor hate like that. You said you are to be a royal tutor, had you stayed in Embla?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bruno is washed up and brought to a room of his own, with crisp instructions of where he can and cannot go within the palace. He knows the guards around the halls where his room is have been given orders to keep an eye on him; the king has believed him, but this is merely a trial period. He spends the first few hours sleeping, grateful to lie in a plush bed after months of sleeping on straw. He eats in the privacy of his own room when the maids bring him his food after he does not show up for dinner. The next day, he is introduced to the royal children. 

“He’s going to be our tutor?” the youngest, Sharena, says, eyeing him up and down carefully. “That’s a lie, isn’t it, Anna? He’s Alfonse’s age. Aren’t tutors supposed to be adults?”

“Now, Sharena,” Alfonse says, with the placating tone of someone clearly being raised to be the next, big-hearted king, “I’m sure father has his reasons. Sometimes, the youngest among us can be the wisest. I look forward to learning what you have to share with us…” He trails off, having forgotten Bruno’s name already. Princes will always be princes, Bruno thinks. They only remember what they need to. 

“Zacharias,” Bruno says. “I am pleased to make your acquaintances, your royal highnesses.”

“Just because he’s around your ages doesn’t mean you can slack off in your studies,” Anna admonishes. Anna holds a significant rank among the Askr army, but Bruno does not know exactly what it is. It makes sense; he is considered a child and from Embla, so there are many things that he does not need to know. He has an impression that Anna had been one of the people teaching the Askr siblings before and that she loves them like they were her own. He can tell by the way she looks at him, wary and guarded, looking for an excuse to catch him hurting them and throw him to the arena. “I will always be watching, you know!”

“Sure, sure,” Sharena says, before coming forward and grabbing Bruno’s hands. “Come on, come with me! I’ll give you a tour of the palace. Obviously you need to know where you’re going if you’re going to teach us!” She pulls him along, hoping to distract him before they have to sit down and begin lessons. Bruno is grateful; as a royal Embla prince, he has gone through lessons himself and is probably one or two years older than Alfonse, so he is sure he knows some things that they don’t. Nonetheless, he isn’t really a royal tutor, so he has not really prepared any material to teach and pretend he is an expert in. King Gustav had ordered him to attend lessons himself, at night after Alfonse and Sharena have retired for the night. He isn’t a prince here, Bruno is always reminded. 

“Sharena! Stop; don’t be so rough with him.” 

Sharena sticks her tongue out at her brother, who begins to trail after them with a frown on his face. Anna still watches over them from a distance. “I’m much more fun than my brother,” she whispers to Bruno. “He thinks that just because he’s crown prince, he has to start acting like a king already!”

She is most likely a handful of years younger than Alfonse. Bruno knows how royalty are with their children; Sharena has also been raised with the expectation that she will be a responsible queen. “So you’re saying that I should favor you?”

“Yes!” Sharena laughs. “I know where all the good snacks are. I’m really good at all the games and I know everyone here. I’m friends with them! My brother will just bore you.”

It’s true that Alfonse is more serious than his sister, but Bruno thinks he would be the same, if he was still in his father’s chambers in Embla. But because he isn’t, he can be cheeky and act like a boy his age. Because of it, after a few weeks of getting used to the role of a royal tutor, Sharena has completely opened up to him, showing him her secret corner of the garden and sharing all the palace gossip with him. Bruno knows Anna keeps an extra hawkish eye on him when he and Sharena are together, and it’s enough to make him consider telling her he has no interest in the princess. He’s got a purpose, and it isn’t to wed another country’s princess, and he has no time to even think of anyone like that. 

One night, after his own lessons, Bruno retreats to the palace roof and stares out into the kingdom in the direction he knows to be where the Embla palace is, miles and miles away. He tricks himself into thinking some of the flickering lights in the distance is where his father and sister are. He wonders how Veronica is holding up; she was never close to him the way Sharena and Alfonse are, but she did go to him whenever their father had scolded her and he remembered the fiercely protective feeling in his chest when he held her and assured her that all was to be well. He hasn’t had any significant conversations with Alfonse, but they have that in common, that unconditional love for their sisters. Alfonse understands his position well, so that may be why he holds the palace staff at a distance. 

“So this is where you were,” Alfonse says, appearing as if summoned by Bruno’s thoughts. He brings a candle to the place Bruno is sitting. “I had finally mustered my courage to ask if you’d like to play a round of chess with me, but you weren’t in your room.”

“Finally mustered the courage…” Bruno repeats slowly. “Your sister is right, isn’t she? You’re a bit awkward, aren’t you, my prince?”

Alfonse flushes at the bluntness. “I’d thank you not to call it out like that,” Alfonse says, after clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment. “After all, you’re my tutor and you’re technically older than me. Also, don’t call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“My prince. I may be a prince, but...well, we are the same age or close, aren’t we? I think it would be good if...if we were friends.” Alfonse nods to reassure himself. “Don’t you think so?”

Bruno laughs in spite of himself. “If that’s what you want.” But Alfonse looks at him somberly.

“It is what I want. But I don’t want to force you to be my friend. I don’t want you to think you have to be, because I am a prince.” Bruno almost laughs again. He is a prince too, so he feels no sense of inferiority! “I’m serious. People like Sharena, because she is friendlier and more open than I am. They know exactly what she’s thinking, because she’ll say it and isn’t afraid to be rebuked. But I don’t like being treated like I’m different either. So...if you think I’m just being silly…” Alfonse looks out over the city too, his lip twisting. 

“Alfonse.” The prince turns, still anxious. “It would be an honor to be your friend.” The relief in Alfonse’s face is sweet. Bruno wonders if he could ever make a face like that, if his father had been different, if court members did not always hold meetings in closed rooms and came and left in the dark of night. They play a game of chess on the roof by candlelight. Bruno wins. 

[=]

Eventually, because Bruno does not conduct his research and conversations with those who have close ties with Embla in broad daylight, Anna keeps her distance and no longer maintains a perpetual gaze on his back. She will never fully trust him, and he knows that her eye and nose for good business extends to her instincts as a member of the palace. She must sense that there’s something off about him, perhaps by the way he pauses a millisecond before responding to his Askr name. But there is no proof that he isn’t what he says, so she stays back. 

And Bruno has no intention of blowing his cover. From his sources from within the Embla empire, his father knows he is missing and has been searching for years. He knows his father would leave no stone unturned, and thus hides when new, unfamiliar faces come to the palace. He’s sure Gustav explains it away as him being wary after a traumatic childhood, which is half true. He practices utmost caution, as he cannot exact his revenge if he is discovered. 

But his father is also carrying out an agenda of his own. It figures that, despite being a thorn in his side, his black sheep of a son is only secondary to grander plans. That hierarchy of importance drives Bruno more. He knows before the Askrians do that Embla is no longer maintaining their gate-keeping duties, but he holds his tongue and watches as Embla realizes its ally is no longer. “Diplomatic talks are no longer showing any result. We must take to the offense,” Gustav declares. 

Anna, who has been one of the main members of the Askr gate-keepers, volunteers immediately for leadership of the Order of Heroes, a force to counter Embla’s attempts to collect members of other worlds to fight on its behalf. Several other prominent soldiers in the army step forward as well. Fidgeting for a good minute, Alfonse suddenly bursts forward from Bruno’s side. “I will fight as well, father,” he announces. Glancing back, he adds, “And you will too, Zacharias…?”

“Of course,” Bruno says. 

“Nonsense,” Gustav says, shaking his head. “You are still too young, my son.” Alfonse bites his lip and steps back in line, properly discouraged for the time being. Age is only a convenient temporary excuse, but Gustav is right. Alfonse is still training with the sword and would only be a liability. Sharena, though recently having taken up the spear at Bruno’s suggestion, would probably insist on following her brother in the Order. The king cannot risk losing his children when they were still so green. 

“My father is too protective,” Alfonse says, once the chamber meeting is over and they are walking back to the royal children’s wing. “How can I learn to rule a kingdom right if I’m cooped up in the palace? Am I not learning battle techniques for a reason? Aren’t these sort of skills best honed in the field?”

“The heroes being summoned through the gates have years of experience to you, who still cannot defeat Anna single-handedly. His highness does not wish for your death.” Alfonse opens his mouth to protest. “Nor would I.” 

Alfonse closes his mouth again. He gives Bruno a look that is slightly starry-eyed, pure amazement. Alfonse has been raised so lovingly, but he is always caught off guard at the knowledge that others care for him. “You don’t?”

“Of course not. You’re my friend.” Bruno’s shoulder aches. As of late, there’s been a dark marking that’s stretched from the top of his shoulder onto his bicep. It feels that every morning he wakes up, a little more is etched onto his skin. He’s been covering it up, but he doesn’t know how much longer he can hide it. It burns from time to time and pulses like a heart. It makes his head feel foggy. 

“Yes,” Alfonse says, “I’m your friend.” That seems to end the conversation, for he says no more as they walk. Sharena comes up and, noticing her brother lost in thought, pulls Bruno into the yard for practice. Sharena is fit to rule the kingdom, with the way she bounces back from setbacks. Sometimes Bruno forgets that she had confessed to him only a few moons before, in the library, accepting of rejection and taking it all in stride. In all honesty, he doesn’t think she really likes him, not in that way - she smiles at him as if nothing happened and has seemingly recovered in a blink of an eye. But perhaps that is just his perception of what love is supposed to be like, because he hasn’t really experienced it. According to old tales and hearsay from the servants, love is longing looks and lingering touches. It is the way Alfonse tenses when he sees him and Sharena talking, when he must lean down because she loves telling secrets no matter what. It’s how Alfonse watches him when he explains a particularly complicated theory and looks away a moment too long after he’s finished talking to jot down his notes. 

Someone who has lived a life in secret is as vigilant and aware as a cornered wolf, and it does not escape Bruno’s notice that he’s somehow caught the attention of Askr’s crowned prince. If Sharena’s sudden confession baffled him, then Alfonse’s affections are a double blow. What about him is so alluring? Bruno is not so above it that he won’t admit that he is conventionally handsome, but handsome men are plentiful, especially those who have a higher public rank than he does. Maybe Alfonse has a point, and they are just siblings holed up in the palace for so long that they seek outlets for their cabin fever. “Hey!” Sharena yells. “Pay attention! That’s what you always tell me. You’ll be riddled with holes if you keep your eyes off the enemy for even a second.”

“You’re right, my apologies.” Bruno rips his eyes away from where he has noticed Alfonse watching them from doorway. 

“How rude! I know I still have a lot to learn, but it’s insulting that you think I’m still not good enough for you to have your mind wander while I practice.”

“Yes, you’re absolutely right.” Sharena puffs her cheeks, fists on her hips with righteous indignation. As she adjusts her gloves and her grip on her spear, Bruno spares a glance at the doorway again, but Alfonse is already gone. With Anna gone more frequently, it’s his responsibility to keep the siblings’ combat training up. Sharena improves nicely from week to week. While her book skills are decent for a young woman of her upbringing, she does not feel as compelled for academics as Alfonse is. Because of this, she spends most of her time practicing, so her lunge actually knocks him off his center of gravity for a moment. His shoulder aches again. 

Recently, Bruno has been dabbling in magic. For some reason, reading and practicing the spells in the tomes in the library dulls the throbbing of the dark mark on his shoulder. It seems whenever he sneaks away to practice, he finds Alfonse also doing research in a sunny spot as well. Alfonse’s current thesis is a review of Askr’s history; he says that perhaps the conflict with the gates has happened before in the past, so it is helpful to do a comparison to see the differences between the past and the present. The scratchings of Alfonse’s pen harmonize with the crackling of the lightning between Bruno’s fingers. 

“Say, Zacharias,” Alfonse says one afternoon. “Did you know? A few centuries ago, two male cousins ruled Askr. They were unwed for the entirety of their reign. But if I look at their lineages, I find it hard to believe they were really as closely related as the history books say they are. Isn’t that curious?” Sharena would have peeked at him over her books, trying to gauge his reaction. Alfonse merely shares this fact as casual as can be, consulting a book in front of him to write his next sentence. It’s as if he doesn’t care. The bit of history has no bearing on him or his relationships with others. 

“That is curious,” Bruno concedes. “Why do you think this is worth mentioning?”

Alfonse abandons all pretense. “Would you ever do anything like that? Rule with another that you cannot wed? Since the beginning of time, a king and a queen have been established as a pair that can oversee all aspects of a kingdom. Of course, that isn’t to say that it’s all been warrior kings and domestic queens. But that sort of division of labor, one to handle the battles and one to handle the diplomacy...who’s to say that any combination of people could do it?”

“Right. But I’m in no position to rule.” 

Alfonse looks down at his papers. “It was only a hypothetical question.” 

Bruno closes his tome and places it on the table. He walks over to Alfonse’s side, and when the prince looks up again, he kisses him. “You make an intriguing proposition. To my knowledge, there isn’t any iron-clad rule that dictates that a married pair can be the only ones to rule.” Alfonse’s breath is hot against his mouth. His heart is pounding, and so is his shoulder. 

“Well,” Alfonse says, almost whispering. He doesn’t finish his thought, because they hear someone approaching the library doors, and they have enough time to separate before Sharena comes in, beaming. 

“Anna’s back,” she says. “And boy, does she have some stories to tell! I thought you guys would want to listen too, so I’m summoning you!”

Bruno doesn’t know what is so alluring about himself, but he can figure the ways that would make any respectable person fall in love with Alfonse. He’s serious and dedicated to the causes that he believes in, genuine and whole-hearted rather than political and strategic. It’s juxtaposed to the times when he’s flustered, about being praised or corrected or just learning about something he doesn’t know before - it’s honest and unassuming. Alfonse is frank and optimistic, so he also looks at things and believes them at face value. He knows the world is complex, but in this part of the world, he bares his heart and expects that others bare it back. For making a list, Bruno thinks he may be more in love than he thought. Sitting next to each other as Anna dramatizes the Order’s latest skirmish, Alfonse wraps his pinkie finger around Bruno’s, shyly and covertly behind Sharena. Bruno does not pull away. 

Bruno thinks they’ll take it slow, because Alfonse is a serious boy and he himself is an Emblian living on borrowed time - but he is pleasantly surprised to find that Alfonse is uncharacteristically impatient when it comes to him, and that he does not mind it at all. Alfonse steals kisses in the halls and next to the stables and in the garden and he makes up for his lack of real experience with enthusiasm. They’ll get caught if they’re not more discreet, Bruno admonishes once, realizing the irony that it isn’t Alfonse for once doing the scolding. Nonetheless, he thinks women’s intuition is uncanny, because he’s certain Sharena is aware of it by the way she snubs her brother for a week out of the blue and then goes out of her way to seat them next to each other during meals or running ahead to talk to Anna and leaving them alone. Anna’s hawkish eyes fall upon him again more often, although she holds her tongue. 

“What would you do if your father found out about us?” Bruno finds himself asking, curious, during a banquet one night when they’ve stolen away upstairs and Alfonse is pulling off his pants, his skin flushed pink. Music from the grand hall as aristocrats chat and eat finger food floats in through the window, muffled from the distance. It took him so long to get into his dress robes, and he knows Alfonse wears a few other baubles as royalty, so he wonders how they’ll get back down in time without causing alarm. 

“I don’t care,” Alfonse says, passionate in the moment. He does care, because he’ll separate immediately if he sees his father approach and he takes great pains to make sure his words are careful and his gaze steady. He kisses Bruno and holds his face in his hands. “What can he do? He won’t make me like you any less.”

“I fear the kingdom run by a princeling like you,” Bruno says, and it’s probably because they’re being so reckless and he’s allowing himself a few moments for himself without having to think three steps ahead that he forgets that he’s been hiding his shoulder. Alfonse notices almost immediately, running his hands over the dark marks. 

“What are these?” he asks, momentarily distracted. 

“Nothing,” Bruno says, shrugging his shirt back over half of his body, trying to play it off. It doesn’t quell Alfonse’s interest, so he makes something up. His shoulder has started aching again under Alfonse’s touch, and he wants them to get to it so he can get distracted from the throbbing. “Just - Embla tradition. It’s normal to be marked to show your bloodline.” 

Alfonse doesn’t look like he completely believes him, but they are also mostly undressed and fairly distracted. “Oh,” he says, still staring at the marks. “I can’t believe they’d do that to a child.” Alfonse’s skin is unmarked, save for some scars from battle training. Bruno brings his lips down, unable to imagine the skin he’s kissing broken and bleeding. He’s prepared to draw blood and take lives for his life’s purpose, but he supposes he’s getting soft if he wants to keep Alfonse from experiencing it. His shoulder begins to sing with a dull pain, his fingers twitching. “Ah,” Alfonse says. “You’re squeezing me too hard. Don’t worry! I’ll tell my father that we were going over strategy if he asks.”

They return downstairs when they begin serving the first course. Bruno takes a seat next to Sharena, who kicks him under the table; Alfonse sits next to his father, who doesn’t inquire. Dinner is a ceremonious affair, and afterwards is a dance, where girls like Sharena can kick back and giggle with the other royal children and adults can talk privately along the walls of the room. Bruno finds himself back in Alfonse’s room, and they go at it again until Alfonse’s hair is so disheveled it makes even Anna comment on it when they return. 

(When most of the guests begin to clear out, Bruno says he wants to take a walk in the garden to clear his head from the festivities. They spend most of it kissing in the shadows along the tree cover until they’re almost caught by a guard, who tells them sternly to return to the palace since it’s getting dark. Bruno has not missed how there has been heightened security around the palace. So it’s true that Embla is starting to move.)

[=]

He gets headaches now, piercing ones that make him see white for a few moments. It used to be that the brand on his shoulder only ached when he spent too long gazing at Alfonse or talking to Sharena - that’s what he calls it now, a brand, an indicator of his cursed blood. His father rarely spoke his or his mother’s name, but when he did, it was to remind them that he hated them; hated the way his mother never played the palace politics and spoke warmly to the royals of Askr, hated the way Bruno questioned the way things were done. It was how Veronica was separated from him when she was born. His father seized her immediately, declaring Bruno a lost cause and his wife - one of his wives - finished. She had birthed an heir as useless as she was, and then she was locked up in the dungeons. 

“Are you alright?” Sharena’s face swims into view. She looks concerned, but it doesn’t fully mask the anxiousness underneath. They are to follow Anna to the border today; King Gustav has relented and allowed his children to join the Order of Heros. He isn’t happy about it, but he figures that with the heavy presence of his soldiers and Anna, they won’t be directly in harm’s way. It will show them the terrors of war, even if the border they’re patrolling today has already been ravaged and left for dead by the Embla army. Bruno can hear the unspoken expectations when Gustav pulls him aside and orders him, as royal tutor, to follow and ensure the safety of his charges: the chaos and destruction are to make Sharena run back to the safety of her quarters and keep Alfonse in his books, where he can devise strategies for the armies to carry out away from the palace grounds. But Bruno thinks Gustav is unaware of the strength of his children. Looking at the destruction of their people will only make them more determined to bring about change with their own hands. 

“I’m fine,” Bruno says, although his temples are still splitting. “I’m just - I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” 

“Don’t we all?” Sharena takes his hand in a soothing gesture. They are riding together in the supply caravan; after extensive arguing, she has finally agreed to switch with Alfonse periodically on riding a horse with the rest of the troops. Anna is to watch the royal child outside the caravan while he is to watch the one within. “We probably won’t be fighting anyone today. I mean, father’s letting us out, so it’s probably the safest time. Especially since it’s the first time he’s agreed to let us go! But I’m prepared in case anything happens. I want him to know that he can depend on us for actual fighting.”

“Surely you aren’t hoping for a battle,” Bruno says. 

Sharena doesn’t answer immediately but it’s obvious she’s itching to show her chops. “I’ve been practicing just in case,” she says eventually. His head feels like it’s fall in on itself. “Ouch, ouch, ouch! Zacharias! Let go of my hand! It hurts!”

He only vaguely processes that he’s gripping so hard on Sharena’s hand that when he finally loosens his grip, watching his fingers move so slowly in real time, her hand is parchment white. She shakes her hand vigorously to get the blood flowing again. But somehow, his headache lessens; it dulls, so it’s more of an uncomfortable feeling of muddiness. Irrationally, it’s as if he has transferred the pain to Sharena.

“I’m sorry,” he forces out of his mouth. “I only meant to show you to be vigilant. I’ll get a healer if it bruises.”

“I won’t be able to hold a lance if you surprise me like that,” she says, sounding cheerful, but when Alfonse comes to switch places with her, she leaves immediately without looking back. Alfonse doesn’t seem to notice. 

The village they touch down on at the border is completely decimated. Homes are razed, crops are burned to ashes. The border patrol who are already there have taken most of the bodies out of sight to a mass grave. Some of the soldiers are sent out to find survivors who have fled; Anna leads the rest of the troops to search for clues. “Keep your eyes peeled,” she announces. “With Embla enemies, you can’t be sure that this place has been completely neutralized. There are spells that activate by touch and curses that do not appear immediately. There won’t be any soldiers to ambush you, but what they’ve left behind can be much worse.” 

“So it’s true that they’re really using dark magic,” Alfonse wonders. 

Combing through house after house only serves to emphasize the ruthlessness of the attack. Sharena averts her eyes from blood smeared on the walls, briefly making eye contact with Bruno before looking away. The soldiers keep the royal children away from the worst of it, but Bruno knows that they both double around to peek through the windows. Eventually, Sharena becomes quiet and only speaks when spoken to. Alfonse keeps his head high, but Bruno sees the way his mouth has set into a tense line. 

“We can return to the castle tomorrow morning,” Bruno offers when Alfonse settles down in the tent. The troops pitch a camp a distance away from the village for the night; some will stay to help clean up the disorder and others will press onward to find the retreating Embla army. Anna has been instructed to turn the children back at a certain point, before the fighting becomes too heavy for her to watch over them at all times. Alfonse stares up at the fabric of the tent above them and sighs. 

“I can’t. I’ve come this far and Father’s finally let us into the Order. Returning now would be admitting we aren’t prepared for what the Order requires us to do.” Bruno decides not to ask whether Alfonse is prepared; if he is, he won’t like being challenged and if he isn’t, he doesn’t want to face that now. “Zacharias.” He sits up and looks at Bruno, who is checking his armor. “I’m really glad you’re here with us. With me.” He pulls up flush against Bruno, burying his head in his shoulder. It isn’t a gesture of lust, as it might have been in the palace walls; he wants the comfort of someone else’s warmth as he’s growing into the prince and king he’s meant to be. 

Bruno isn’t even aware that it’s happening until he forces the haziness from his mind and finds his hand firmly clasping the dagger he keeps at his waist and he holds it up against the back of Alfonse’s neck. A clean cut, a downward slash to the front would have the prince bleeding out in seconds. Alfonse tenses against his chest. Bruno’s hand feels like lead; it takes all the control he has to bring the dagger back down to his side. 

“What was that for?” Alfonse whispers, fear apparent as he sits back, too afraid to raise his voice in a more accusatory manner. “Zacharias? Answer me.”

His shoulder feels like pinpricks. Bringing the dagger to Alfonse’s neck brought an unwelcome clarity that is slowly beginning to get murky; his brain feels like it’s vibrating in his skull. “Blood pact,” Bruno manages to say. “An old Embla tradition...I’ll watch your back and you’ll watch mine. I just thought - to help ease your worries. I’m here for you, and I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Because I’ll do it myself, his brain screams. His heart is pounding so loud in his ears he wonders if he’ll hear what Alfonse says in response. What a transparent lie. He hasn’t been in his homeland for years and years. What would possess him to try and invoke some fake ritual like that?

Alfonse gives a shaky laugh. “I don’t know. I mean, I appreciate the gesture. But things like that - blood pacts and stuff like that. They scare me; they feel very dark magic, don’t they?”

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, that was uncalled for of me. It’s getting late; let’s get some rest.” Bruno waits until he hears Alfonse’s breathing get slow and shallow. He collects all his things and walks to the furthest point of camp and lies down. His body cannot be trusted. As he allows himself to finally sleep, comfortably far enough that if he rampages he will alert Anna and the others, he wonders if Veronica has felt the same things. 

Surprisingly, Alfonse and Sharena offer little resistance when Anna reaches the point where she must turn them back. While she leads the others further along the border, Bruno accompanies the siblings back to the castle. They ride in almost absolute silence, though Sharena begins to chatter and talk about the things around them once they reach the outskirts of the city. Back in familiar surroundings, she smiles and discusses what they can do for the survivors of the border village back at home. Gustav is happy to have his children back, enough that he doesn’t seem too perturbed that neither of them feels a particular longing to stay at home. Anna returns after a few days, with news that Embla has amassed a collection of heroes with the king as its head. His father was never a fighter, Bruno thinks; he was overconfident in his power and only used simple strategy. If his sources were to be trusted, he was also distracted by his second wife. The new empress is only concerned with spoils of war and living in the royal court. His father wants to cater to her every whim. 

His headaches become even stronger back in the palace. He has attempted to harm both the Askr royal children. His father is becoming reckless enough that news of his participation in the war has reached Askr. Veronica needs him; she must be an adolescent now, left with her war-faring father and negligent mother.

On the night Bruno has decided to leave, Alfonse visits him in his room. All the things he plans to bring with him are in the pack under his bed; he can’t bring everything and as someone on a mission, he has no room for extra things. “Are you feeling better?” Alfonse asks. He’s somehow gotten it in his head that Bruno has been shaken from the visit to the border, enough to make blood pacts and act so strangely. He’s given Bruno space, although he still brushes up close when they pass each other. 

Bruno offers a wane smile. “I’m as fine as I’ll ever be. Wartime is wartime, after all.”

Alfonse walks up to him, and for a moment, Bruno dreads the boy. He’s a refugee from Embla with a revenge plan in his heart, but he’s let Alfonse through the cracks. The primal part of him wants to stay, stay in Askr where Alfonse wants him and he wants to be wanted by Alfonse. But Alfonse hasn’t been studying magic, so he won’t be able to read minds, and he won’t be able to ask Bruno to stay. “I know we’ve been talking a lot recently about Embla,” he says, looking down at their feet. “And we’re fighting people from your motherland. But you should know...it doesn’t matter that you’re from Embla. I want peace for all, even those who don’t live in Askr.” He leans forward and Bruno tenses, almost wincing when Alfonse kisses his shoulder where the brand burns against his skin. “I thought that what I said before...about your blood pact. That was narrow-minded of me. I can’t be a good king if I hold onto to prejudices against other kingdoms.” He offers his arm. “So, I thought...let’s do it. A blood pact.”

Bruno’s head tightens. He shakes his head to try and clear it. “No. That isn’t what I meant. I wasn’t thinking clearly back then; it was foolish.” Something in his head is telling him to bring out his dagger and cut deeply into Alfonse, not drawing back even if the prince cries out for him to stop. “That isn’t what I want. You’re right; it’s old fashioned. In a world where you’re king, you don’t need to be tied to someone by blood for you to have a strong bond.” 

Alfonse almost looks disappointed. “There’s another way for you to show that same sentiment,” Bruno offers, clenching his hands to keep from reaching for a blade. Alfonse, smart prince he is, takes the hint and gives him the sweetest kiss he’s tasted in a while. 

Alfonse decides to sleep in Bruno’s room for the night. They don’t do anything but kiss innocently, and once Alfonse is nestled comfortably against his side, fast asleep, Bruno takes his pack from under the bed and takes the back gates of the palace out into the night. He’s timed it so he leaves when the guards are least concentrated. He gets as far as the forest around the palace, thick enough to slip into never to be seen again, when someone appears and watches him. 

“You’ll break his heart,” Anna says. 

“That’s not my problem,” Bruno says. Anna sighs. 

“Of course it isn’t. I knew I should have gotten you out of the castle sooner.” She adjusts the axe she keeps just over her shoulder. “I better not see you back here again. If Prince Alfonse doesn’t kill you, I will.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Bruno says dryly. She doesn’t move, so he knows she’ll be watching him until he’s gone. Against his better judgement, he looks back up to the castle, to the window he knows was his. The oil lamp on the sill has been lit; so Alfonse already knows he’s gone. It’s a distance away, so his eyes may be playing tricks on him, but he thinks he sees a figure in the window, watching them, although it’s impossible to see from that distance. After a moment, it disappears and the lamp goes out again.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a Day 1 player and finally got around to getting out a fic for this? When is Brunorias coming back?


End file.
